Beloved Enemy
by darkheart510
Summary: Russia tries to explain his nation's presence in the Eight Nation Alliance during the Boxer Rebellion to a defiant China. Historical.


**Disclaimer:** I don't own Hetalia.

**Warning**: As much as it pains me, all of the historical information was taken from Wikipedia. I also want to point out, that as with all historical events, the intentions and portrayals of important groups and people can be contested and are subject to the ideology of the textbook/teacher/ history resource, etc. (i.e. show a heavy Western interpretation), so please don't jump me.

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**Characters List**

**Empress Dowager Cí Xi **(1835-1908): the hidden power behind the crown. After several failed attempts to modernize China, she threw her efforts with the conservative factions of the court and tried to expel the foreigners from China.

**Emperor Guang Xú** (1871-1908): Born as Zai Tian, the adopted son of the Empress Dowager.

**Boxers:** The people of the Yì Hé Tuán/義和團(The Society of Harmonious and Righteous Fists). Known as "boxers" by foreigners for the martial arts and calisthenics they practiced. They blamed the foreigners and the Christian missionaries for the disastrous floods that had happened recently and wished to purify the nation of foreign influence. .

**China/Wang Yao**: The physical embodiment of the country known as China.

**Russia/Ivan Braginski:** The physical embodiment of the country known as Russia.

**Nations also mentioned**: England, France, Germany, Italy, Austria, Japan, and America.

Beta'd by my sweetie, aoi_aka

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China sat in the shadows of the Empress Dowager Cí Xi's inner sanctum. He calmly sipped his green tea as her ladies-in-waiting frantically pushed clothing, jewelry, and precious heirlooms into traveling boxes and handed them to frazzled servants waiting outside the door. An undercurrent of fear and anger ran through the air. It wouldn't be long now. The telegram said the foreign army was coming and that they were close. _Too close_, whispered the servants, _what's going to happen now? _Like nervous birds, they flitted across the room.

Silence. The Empress Dowager walked into the room. Her head was held high as her ladies-in-waiting and servants bowed in deference. She acknowledged them with a nod and they resumed their frantic preparations. The Empress Dowager walked over to where China sat in the chair. She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. It took her several tries, "Zai Tian and I, we'll be leaving for Xi An."

China merely nodded. Cí Xi took a deep breath and said, "Those _yáng__ rén,_ those foreigners , they keep stepping all over us with their radical ideas and disrespect. I couldn't allow that. I could not."

"And now?" China's words could barely be heard over the din of the room, but to Cí Xi, it was as if he had shouted into her ears. All around them, people rushed back and forth; their arms full of odds and ends, their faces pale with fear.

She was silent for so long that China thought she wouldn't reply. "I did what I thought was best," she said. And with those words, the Empress Dowager turned around and left. She never looked China in the eye.

_No, they never do, _mused China. _It would be too much for their human spirits._ China touched one of the bruises forming on his cheek. Years of experience told him that this was only the beginning.

After the Empress Dowager and the Guang Xú Emperor left the Forbidden City for the safety of the distant city of Xi An, China walked the streets of Bei Jing. The acrid smoke stung his nose and made his eyes water. There were several fires still burning in the city. China sniffed the air, noting the direction the smoke drifted from. It seemed that the Boxer rebels were still trying to scare out the foreigners barricaded in the embassy.

The dirty streets were strewn with bits of straw and rotting vegetables. With news of the foreign army coming to put down the rebellion, his people had made a quick escape to safer places. His foot splashed a puddle on the ground and China shook the water off in distaste. No matter how many revolutions, coups, and uprisings he had survived, he always hated the mess that they created. The bloodshed of his people manifested in waves of pain emanating from his chest, but after a few thousand years, he had learned to cope with that sensation. He didn't become the Middle Kingdom by shrinking away from pain. But the mess, the mess always got to him. No place for a decent cup of green tea. No candied fruit or bright red trinkets. Just mud and flies, and burning houses.

A doll lay face down on the dirt. Several people bumped into China as he bent down to pick up the toy. Coarse black hair framed a crudely sewn face, but the impish smile the mother had given it (because obviously, this was a beloved homemade doll) made China chuckle softly. He looked around for the owner, but he didn't see any children playing nearby. A quiet metallic sound brought his attention back to the doll. Around its neck was a tiny necklace adorned with a cross. A Christian cross.

Oh.

China wrapped his hand around the doll and clutched it to his chest. A Christian cross meant the owner of the doll was probably a foreign child, a daughter of a foreign missionary perhaps. China pressed the doll to his chest and concentrated. As a personified nation, the voices of his people were always present in the back of his head. He didn't know how the other nations heard it, but China always thought it sounded like a fierce river: loud and unpredictable. However, while the million droplets of water in a river could not be separated from one another, China had learned that he could reach into the stream of noise and extract one voice out of his thousands of children.

Human adults from another country living on his land didn't regard him as home, so their feelings were not always too clear. But children regarded the place where they slept, ate, and played as home even if they were born elsewhere; their thoughts, hopes, and wishes were just as strong as any of his native born people.

So China plunged his consciousness into that wild river and searched for the owner of the rag doll. He didn't know why he cared so much; it was probably better for him to put down the toy and walk away, but the recent massacre and the bloodshed made him anxious. He had to know if this child was okay. If she was scared or happy or—

China's hand tightened and suddenly he felt the burden of a million deaths on his shoulders. A wet drop of water fell on his hand. Startled, he touched his face and was taken aback by the tears coursing down his cheeks. The street wavered out of focus as he tilted his face to the summer sun and cried soundlessly. The warmth on his skin comforted him. The sun had graced his land with its rays when he was young and it would continue to do so years after the turmoil of today. It would be okay. Someday.

He felt the footsteps in his bones before he heard them. The feel of another personified nation treading on his land always made his joints ache. The footsteps stopped behind him. A gentle voice called out his name.

China spoke without looking at the speaker, "I should feel honored that you deigned to visit me."

"_Da_. I am sorry."

China rounded on Russia; his face was red with rage, "You bastard! Don't you dare apologize! You stood by when England pried me open and shoved his drugs into me. You stood by when I lost Hong Kong. You yourself stole my land and even now you and your _yáng rén _conspire to control me! So you can take your apology and shove it!"

"China…" Russia reached out and made to stroke China's hair. China slapped his hand away and spun his body in a roundhouse kick. Russia snapped his face to the right, barely avoiding a foot in his mouth. Without a pause, China launched another kick at Russia's head. Russia blocked with his forearm and attempted to throw the smaller man down. China slapped the ground with his hands and twisted his body away. He rolled onto his feet and took a ready stance, feet placed shoulder-width apart, arms up.

Russia cocked his head to the side and looked at the other nation quizzically. "Why are you fighting? You cannot believe in what the Boxers are doing," he said.

"I believe in my people."

"Not everyone wants the foreigners to leave."

"Not everyone wants them to stay."

"Is that your sentiment, China?"

"I want to be left alone. With my dignity."

Russia laughed sadly, "I am sorry, my friend. But the first part will not be happening. And the second part depends on your actions."

China returned Russia's smile with a knowing look of his own, "True, but still, a man can wish."

A shadow fell over Russia's face as he said, "but neither of us are men." In a flash, he was next to China; such quickness seemed at odds with his large body. He punched China in the solar plexus, causing China to double over in pain. Spots danced in front of China's eyes as he struggled to suck air into his lungs. The blonde nation wretched China's arm behind his back and forced him to his knees. China felt the mud soak his tattered red cheongshan.

Russia buried his fingers in China's hair and jerked his head up roughly. Russia leaned his face close to China's, "You can feel it, _da? _ In the very marrow of your bones, the International Army has entered the city. They will take back the embassy and put your Boxers to rout. England, Japan, France, Italy, America, Austria, and Germany will have their way no matter what you do. Stop resisting and I promise the consequences will not be as brutal."

China felt his shoulders sag. He was so tired, "You forgot one, Russia."

"What?"

"You, you're here too. To break my spirit and destroy my people."

Russia froze. The sounds of chaos floated in the background, but in the alleyway, they were alone.

"Nothing to say, Russia?"

"Chi—Wang Yao…" Russia spoke hesitantly.

China stiffened at the use of his human name. "Aren't you here to put down my Boxers too? Or have you forgotten about the ten thousand… No, the thirteen thousand men you sent to control me?" He looked into the violet eyes of the man towering above him, the anger apparent on China's face. "My people only want to live in peace without having to kowtow to the foreigners. And if you won't give us that, then we'll just take it for ourselves! We would rather die in battle than in a ditch. Eat shit and die, you filthy foreigner." With that insult, China spat in Russia's face.

Russia reached inside his jacket and pulled out a handkerchief. His face was completely unreadable as he wiped the spit off. Russia tucked the handkerchief back into his inner pocket and backhanded China across the face. "Let us be clear, _da_? Wang Yao, I apologize not for my actions." Russia caressed the bruise that was coloring China's left cheek. "No, I am sorry that you feel…compelled to fight."

A cold chill rushed through China's body. The humidity and the heat did nothing to lessen the ice in Russia's eyes. Refusing to show weakness, China straightened his back and spoke, "As long as I have people who call me home, I will fight. That will never change."

"You fight for peace. Your children will not thank you for it." Russia glanced down at the doll that lay in the mud; forgotten in the heat of the fight.

China's voice did not waver, "Support the Qing, destroy the foreigners."

"You are fighting a losing battle. Your children are old-fashioned. They will be crushed under England's thumb."

"If I fight, I lose; if I cry mercy, I lose. The _yáng rén_ will exploit my people. I would rather die than let that humiliation fall upon me."

Russia chuckled and combed China's tangled black hair through his fingers. "If such is the value you place on your life, then let me have it."

In the distance, a loud boom sounded. Shrill screams pierced the air. In his heart, China knew that something was ending. It tugged at his gut. He wanted to throw up. "Let you have me? And how is this different from letting England, Japan, or any of your allies take me?"

"I am not the same as they. England and Japan, they will take you, that is a given. England is a greedy man and Japan wants to test his blades. They will destroy you without a thought, but if I take you under my wing, they cannot do as they please." Russia interlaced his fingers with China's. "So I will take you, even against your will, if it means you will be safe."

Another explosion went off. This time it was much closer. Spots appeared in front of China's eyes and he began to sway unsteadily. The Boxers had lost; the International Army had taken the Forbidden City. In one final defiant gesture, China glared into Russia's eyes, "_Cào. Ni. Ma."_ And the world turned dark.

The next day, China sat behind the rows of high ranking officials in the grand court of the Forbidden City as the terms of the Boxer Protocol were read to them. What was once a room meant for the presence of only the Emperor and his officials now held the military leaders of eight foreign nations discussing how to divide up the spoils of war. Standing at the side of each leader was the physical embodiment of their nation. China gazed at each nation; his eyes lingered on Japan for a second before turning to Russia.

Their eyes met and China felt a shiver run up and down his back. When he heard Russia's share of the war reparations, a cold knot formed in the pit of his stomach. It was no surprise that Russia had claimed the lion's share of the spoils. As China's outmaneuvered general walked up to sign the Protocol, Russia's eyes crinkled just slightly at the corners, the faintest of smiles. China reflected that even after several thousand years, Sun-Tzu's words still rang true, "Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer." Even after the damage the Europeans had dealt, it seemed that the nations that he would have to keep an eye on would be the ones closest to him.

The 20th century was only beginning.

**end**

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**History**

**The Boxer Rebellion**: In June 1900, the Boxers attacked the foreign embassies in Beijing and the Empress Dowager declared war on the foreign powers that had diplomatic representation in China. The diplomats, foreign citizens, soldiers, and some Chinese Christians barricaded themselves in the embassy for 57 days until the International Army came to their rescue. The International Army consisted of troops from the Eight Nation Alliance: England, France, Germany, Austria, Russia, Japan, Italy, and America. China got beat. Badly.

**Tai Yuan Massacre**: One of the more infamous bits of the Boxer Rebellion. Almost 19,000 Chinese Christians and foreign missionaries in Tai Yuan city of the Shanxi province were killed in July 1900 by the Boxers. These numbers included men, women, and children.

**Notes**

-"Support the Qing [dynasty], destroy the foreigners." = _Fú Qing Mìe Yáng_ (扶清灭洋). The motto of the Boxers.

-_Cào Ni Ma(_肏你媽): "Fuck your mother." A pretty disgusting insult. Oh, China.

-The Eight Nation Alliance demanded monetary reparations for the Boxer Rebellion. China paid almost 700 million taels of silver from 1901-1939. Russia received 30%, Germany 20%, France 17.75%, England 11.25%, Japan 7.7%, and US 7%.

-Sun Tzu(~400 B.C.): The author of the _Art of War, _which the quote is taken from.

-_Yáng rén_: Foreigners, in case you missed it when the Empress Dowager mentioned it earlier.

-Originally written for the Rochu secret santa '09.


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